


Margaret Mullen

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-04
Updated: 2006-04-04
Packaged: 2018-08-15 21:59:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8074216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Not a great piece of fiction, but there ya go. Events of Twilight.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

Writer: tami@deathmint.com Beta: Monica! Rating: R Disclaimers: The usual Spoilers: Twilight  
  
Archer groggily forced open his eyes and squinted at the morning light. He gave a sleepy stretch and nuzzled the back of his head into the pillow with a contented smile. He hadn't had any dreams, but felt incredibly peaceful and at rest. As he stared at the ceiling he thought it looked a little different than before. The steel bracers appeared different. No, the ceiling seemed entirely different. He looked over to his left with a start. There was a bookshelf filled with his belongings, but the shelf wasn't his. He asked himself, sitting up 'Where am I?' The white comforter fell about his bare waist. Everything seemed like a dream - the sunlight, the abode ..  
  
It was then Archer realized he was completely naked. He glanced to his right, and saw a nude woman with long brown hair, sleeping angelically. Her hands curled up under her hair - the same long hair that hid her identity. Archer was flummoxed. He furrowed his brow trying to remember the circumstances. He didn't remember being with a woman. He was pretty sure he had dinner with Trip and T'Pol last night. In fact, he was almost positive he was in a corridor with T'Pol just moments ago. Surely, he would've remembered meeting someone. It wasn't like he'd been getting a lot of action lately.  
  
The one woman he wanted to be with was completely off limits, at least according to Starfleet protocols and common sense.  
  
He gazed over the woman's bare back - it was breathtaking. It was delicate and strong, twisting against the bed in a sleek "S" pattern. One hip gracefully shot toward the ceiling. Archer sighed; he definitely would've remembered this woman.  
  
He overcame the awkwardness of the moment and leaned over her to brush back a few tresses. His jaw dropped as his eyes fixed on the tip of a pointed ear.  
  
T'Pol felt his touch and stirred. "Jonathan," she murmured, as her eyes barely split open.  
  
He jerked his head back. His unhinged mouth was motionless; words were trapped deep within his throat. She sat up, baring herself to him and kissed him tenderly on the lips. Archer stared at her in disbelief, "T'Pol?" She looked different, but . oddly the same. Her hair was longer and something about her appearance had just a smidgen of age.  
  
She ran her hand against his cheek and said, "This is undoubtedly difficult for you. You have lost your long-term memory due to the anomaly we experienced on Enterprise." She distractedly traced her fiery lips along his neck. Her voice was strained, "I would go into more detail, but I am losing focus."  
  
"Is this some kind of joke?" he asked, retreating from her embrace.  
  
"No. This is not a deception," she claimed. Her unblinking eyes bored into him with something akin to passion. Her lips found and teased his body like they owned him - dancing across his clavicle. Her eyes were desperate and wanton. Her lips crashed against his as she pulled him back onto the bed.  
  
He whispered, "I'm your commanding officer. I shouldn't be doing this." This was seeming more and more like a dream . and the object of his desires was in it begging him to come to bed.  
  
She countered, "Trust me." Her lips intertwined passionately with his. Her fingers slid up his neck and rushed through his hair. "I need you again," she said without her usual Vulcan restraint. She shivered - sweat beading up on her brow and trickling down her face.  
  
Her legs wrapped around his waist and she arched her back. "I want you again," she growled.  
  
Archer felt the roar of desire and grabbed the bed sheet, winding it around them. Now he was positive this was a dream; it couldn't be reality. He draped her in his arms and deepened the kiss. Since it was a flight of fancy, he would be a willing participant.  
  
"You're beautiful," he said in awe - his voice so hushed she could barely hear him.  
  
Her lips ravished his in response. She whispered, "It should be more pleasurable today . restraints are not required."  
  
Chapter Two  
  
His eyes barely opened. He caught the memory of a dream . and then it vanished. A faint glimpse . a wisp of something adrift in his mind. He knew it was about T'Pol. Maybe he was thinking of how he'd wanted her to see "Rosemary's Baby." He grinned devilishly at the thought of having the hell scared out of her.  
  
As he stretched, he noticed his body felt completely spent - his muscles ached, particularly his arms. His chest and back stung; he hung his head down at his bare chest and winced at the scratch marks. He sat up slowly and looked around the darkened room. The moon shimmered against the ceiling and dimly illuminated the walls.  
  
'Moon?' asked Archer wondering what moonlight was doing in his cabin. He scanned the darkness, but could see well enough to know he wasn't in his room. He didn't know where he was.  
  
The silhouette of a woman hung in the doorway. "Are you hungry?" she asked.  
  
Who's voice was it? He called out into the darkness, "T'Pol?"  
  
She walked into the moonlight, a green glow to her cheek. Her satin bathrobe was pink and slightly revealing. He stared at the fabric that clung to her lithe body.  
  
"Where am I?" he asked.  
  
"You are in your house."  
  
"My . house?" he asked.  
  
"Our house," she corrected. She walked over and picked his trousers off the floor and handed them to him.  
  
"You may want these. I know you are somewhat modest."  
  
"I beg your pardon?" he asked, realizing he was naked under the covers.  
  
She sat down on the bed. "Things have changed between us."  
  
"Since this afternoon?" he asked with confusion. "I just . I just saw you."  
  
"No, things changed several years ago," she responded.  
  
"I don't understand," he said with disbelief.  
  
"We have been here for nearly seven years, Jonathan."  
  
He nodded in comprehension, although he heard the words, they seemed foreign. "I don't .."  
  
She smoothed his hair. "There is much to explain."  
  
He sighed and reached for the trousers in her hand. She turned away for a moment while he dressed. As he pulled up his pants, he saw a mirror across the room. He walked slowly to it, with horror he acknowledged the man staring back. It was he - older, hair tipped with silver, green eyes surrounded by more wrinkles and a few stray strands of white marking his eyebrows.  
  
He turned back to T'Pol with disbelief, "What's going on?"  
  
"I will tell you everything soon. You are undoubtedly hungry. You have not eaten today."  
  
He thought about it for a moment. His stomach rumbled; "Yes, I'm hungry."  
  
She took his hand and led him into the living room. His head bobbed around noting the architecture of the room. He'd never seen anything like this house - it was an odd heap of spare parts from a starship junkyard. Steel beams perched themselves around tin-like material. A few pieces of weathered furniture were scattered around the room.  
  
"The food on this planet is not plentiful, but nourishing. You usually like something that resembles a . hamburger, though it is made of soy."  
  
Archer smirked and sat down on a stool near the kitchen. He was almost afraid to ask this question, "Are you and I .?"  
  
She continued as if the comment didn't bother her, "You need not feel embarrassed you cannot remember." She lowered her voice so that it was inaudible to him, "I found it quite memorable." She turned toward him and continued, "What is your last memory?"  
  
"We were talking about Rosemary's Baby," he said.  
  
"An anomaly hit the Enterprise that day. Do you remember?"  
  
"Yes, your leg was trapped underneath a beam," he said.  
  
"You freed me, but were hit by the anomaly. Spatial parasites attached themselves to your hippocampus, preventing you from retaining long-term memories. Your memory fades within a few hours."  
  
Archer stood, "Only a few hours?"  
  
She nodded, "Yes."  
  
"What happened?" he asked. "Enterprise?"  
  
"It is on patrol in this system."  
  
"The mission?"  
  
"We could not stop the Xindi."  
  
"Earth?"  
  
She hesitated, "Destroyed."  
  
Archer's backed up knocking the stool over. His head was pounding with despair. He hunched over, feeling his knees buckle. Admiral Forrest? Rebecca? "What happened to my people?"  
  
"All that is left is here on the fifth planet of Ceti Alpha V."  
  
"How . how many are left?"  
  
She walked toward him and wrapped her hand around his. "6,000."  
  
"No," he responded.  
  
"I am sorry."  
  
He didn't want to breakdown in front of T'Pol, but felt this conversation was too much. She held his head to her stomach as he tried to grasp the concept that San Francisco was gone. Ruby was gone. His family home was gone. All that he knew - the temples of Tibet, the coasts . everything . everything was gone.  
  
She continued to speak, feeling the brunt of his emotions slam against her like a tidal wave. "Enterprise left us here with the other humans at my request."  
  
He could always count on T'Pol; that never seemed to change. She'd stayed with him for some reason. Loyalty ran deep with her. "Why, T'Pol?" his choked voice blurted out.  
  
She raised both eyebrows and stroked his hair. His dark green eyes locked onto hers. She picked up the stool and brought him some water. His hands gripped the glass so tightly it nearly shattered. His mouth was watery and his throat was tight. He took a long, pensive sip as T'Pol continued making dinner.  
  
He mumbled, "And us?"  
  
"We have been friends for many years. Our intimacy is relatively new." She sighed and continued, "I entered Pon Farr yesterday."  
  
"Pon Farr?" he asked.  
  
"It is the time of mating for Vulcans."  
  
He straightened his spine, wondering ..  
  
She knew him so well. She knew what his reaction would be. And yet, she had illogically assumed that he would remember his consent and eagerness to being lovers. It was obvious he would never remember that agreement, their frenzied passion the night before or the long, lovemaking session this morning.  
  
She wet her lips and watched her feet. "Jonathan, Pon Farr requires us to . be together . for nearly a week. I will undoubtedly need you again . and soon."  
  
He looked at her with stunned silence. A range of emotions were overtaking him - guilt, embarrassment and confusion. He had lust for her, tenderness, attraction and caring, but, she deserved more. She deserved someone who could remember yesterday, the day before, last month or even a year ago.  
  
He began hoarsely, "It seems I owe you my life, T'Pol." He sauntered up to her and cupped her shoulders in his hands. As he stared into her eyes, he brought her into a hug. "I'm so sorry for all the sacrifices you've made for me. It must've been difficult for you."  
  
"You sacrificed yourself for me in the corridor and saved me from the effects of Trellium D. It seemed a debt I should repay."  
  
He didn't want to be anyone's debt.  
  
She didn't want him to feel indebted. She needed him -to save her own life and ultimately his, but she wanted him to willingly give himself to her. She wanted the fire and passion she'd met with the previous night and this morning.  
  
She broke the contact, turning around swiftly to complete dinner preparations. Archer wandered around the room, staring at his belongings. He picked up a small statue of Surak, which seemed to be the only thing that belonged to T'Pol.  
  
She put a grayish-brown substance on a plate and then set it on the table. Her hands enveloped a large mug of tea. "Dinner is ready."  
  
Archer sat at the table and looked at his meal, as T'Pol joined him, watching his reaction.  
  
"Thanks. Aren't you having anything?" he asked.  
  
"I am currently fasting."  
  
He turned his attention toward the meat and cut into it. "What do I normally do during the day?"  
  
"I believe you call it 'puttering around the house.' You helped build this structure. You have a vegetable garden in back .."  
  
"I have a vegetable garden? What do I grow?" he asked.  
  
"The climate is arid here, but you were able to grow . tomatoes, lettuce and cucumbers."  
  
Archer frowned, "Cucumbers? I don't really like them."  
  
"I like them. You grew them for me."  
  
He smiled, "Hmm, I'm a farmer. I never suspected; I didn't think I could grow anything. Do I do anything else?"  
  
"Read, record information in your journal. You wrote about everything that has happened; you write nearly every day. But, I cannot allow you to find out about Earth by reading through your journal."  
  
He sucked in his breath at the mention of his home planet. "I was wondering how you'd managed to repeat the same story on a daily basis."  
  
"I do not mind. You also talk with the neighbors about the future expansion of humans. You have been looking into other locations for humans to colonize."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, but it seems fruitless, especially with the limited number of ships we have at our disposal."  
  
Archer decided not to ask. He stuffed food in his mouth instead.  
  
She nodded, "Is your back sore today?"  
  
"Just some scratches .." After delivering the information, he guessed that she had something to do with them and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Sorry," he said with embarrassment.  
  
"I can take a look at them?"  
  
"No, thanks. I'll be alright," he said, feeling red-faced about the obvious results of their passion.  
  
She broke the awkward silence, "I remember when you began to hoe the dirt in the back. I informed you it was impossible to grow anything and you told me about your . great-grandfather."  
  
Archer grinned, "Roy Archer. He was a farmer."  
  
She chimed in, "Apparently, he settled on a plot of land during the last of the wars on your home world. The land was charred and barren, but he insisted war could not last forever. He claimed, 'Something has to grow here some time.'"  
  
"My father loved telling that story. He took me there when I was a boy. It was difficult to imagine in only 100 years, the soil had become fertile. There was a tree I liked to climb .."  
  
A twinkle formed in her eye, as she said, "A pear tree. You would pretend it was a starship."  
  
"Yes," he nodded. "I guess you've heard this story a few times."  
  
"Yes. But, you seem eager to tell it, and have a different phrasing every time. For example, last time you told me this story, you indicated there was a young girl you kissed under this tree."  
  
His eyes sparkled back. "Yeah." He continued to eat and asked, "Did your parents garden?"  
  
"No, they were dignitaries . diplomats."  
  
"I bet you've told me that before."  
  
"Yes, but do not concern yourself with it."  
  
"It's obvious I feel comfortable around you," he said. "I hardly ever tell my great-grandpa Roy story."  
  
"Do you feel at ease in my presence?" she asked. She sensed in his mind he was still uncomfortable about the situation.  
  
He admitted, "I just never thought we'd be together in that way."  
  
"Last night, you mentioned a dream, a fantasy about me."  
  
He winced and said softly, "I've fantasized about you. I just never thought .. I .."  
  
She could feel her fever beginning to intensify. She wiped at her forehead.  
  
"You too warm?" he asked.  
  
"It is a . symptom of my condition."  
  
"Do you need to ..?"  
  
"No," she said, trying to hold out as long as possible.  
  
"Why don't I turn the air up," he suggested. "If you point me to it .."  
  
She raised her eyebrow and identified something across the room. Archer took a look at it and begin to fiddle with the knobs. Suddenly some cool air came in. "Huh, I better look at this. I think the coils might be going out. If I just .."  
  
"Jonathan, you have been promising to fix that for some time."  
  
He gave a lop-sided smile, "How many years?"  
  
"2.75."  
  
He grinned and looked back at the equipment. "Well, this time I'll do it."  
  
"You have also said that before."  
  
"Maybe this time it'll be different," he smirked. He strolled back up to the table, as she poured him another glass of water.  
  
"What do you do . besides take care of me?" he asked.  
  
"Go on walks with you. Do the wash . cook . clean."  
  
He asked, sadly, "What about anything for you? Just you?"  
  
"I meditate on a regular basis. Read." She was beginning to sweat more profusely.  
  
"Are you okay?" he asked.  
  
She shivered, trying to keep her symptoms at bay. "Yes, I will be."  
  
"No, you're not. What do you need from me?" he asked.  
  
She looked away. "I indicated I was alright," she said with a hint of anger in her voice.  
  
He walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "What do you need from me?"  
  
She grabbed his lips with hers, forcefully. Although he didn't resist, he didn't fully participate. When she broke for air, he asked, "Is that what you need?"  
  
She attacked his lips again, parting his mouth with her tongue. She rubbed her palms against his back, kneading his skin. Then suddenly, her hands detoured and darted up his thigh, "No, I need this." He picked her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, laying her on the bed.  
  
She slipped out of her robe and brought his mouth to hers to devour it. Her hands were shaking; she had difficulty restraining herself from tackling him and throwing him to the bed. She noticed his movements were not like yesterday's or this morning's. He was cautious. She could sense something in his mind, but was unfamiliar with the emotion.  
  
Her mind was a mumble of thoughts and feelings. She wanted to dominate him and his mind, force him to use the newly formed bond. She longed to hear his voice ringing in her ears and have her voice pervade his thoughts.  
  
As Archer carefully removed his pants and moved toward the bed, she wrestled him beneath her. He was surprised, but not scared. She was stronger than he was, but moved him gently and with ease. "This morning you claimed I was beautiful," she said.  
  
He barely found his voice, "You are."  
  
"Soval accused me of having emotions for you."  
  
He struggled to understand what that meant. "Do you?"  
  
"I have felt something deep .. I have cared for you for some time."  
  
"It's okay," he said. He kissed her palm.  
  
"I felt desire for you before Pon Farr, Jonathan."  
  
His eyes locked on hers and he kissed her lips gently.  
  
"You are not a debt I repay. I want to be with you," she whispered. "I want this."  
  
He felt joy, as if he'd wanted to hear that he wasn't just a debt or a burden; he wanted to know she cared for him deeply. He removed the clip from her hair and let her mane fall down past her shoulders. His lips met hers more eagerly. "Tell me what turns you on," he whispered. "I want to please you."  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Archer held her in his arms. He pressed his lips gently to her neck. "Are you warm enough?"  
  
"Yes," she replied.  
  
He whispered, "T'Pol, do you know why I wouldn't leave without you in that corridor that day?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Maybe . maybe I've had feelings . emotions for you for some time."  
  
"The Trellium D. You never lined Enterprise with that compound," she said with a start.  
  
"No," he agreed.  
  
"I believed you would do the same for any crewmen," she commented.  
  
"Maybe," he said wistfully. "But, I'm not sure I would've helped capture Menos or pushed the Vulcans so hard to keep you onboard. I thought my feelings were fairly obvious; I just thought you didn't return them."  
  
"You had spoken to me of tension before. I assumed perhaps there was mild attraction, but nothing more."  
  
He curled into her and chuckled. "No."  
  
"Why did you not tell me?" she asked.  
  
"It was inappropriate. It was against protocols and common sense."  
  
"Why do you think I stayed with Enterprise?" she asked.  
  
"I often wondered."  
  
"Now, there is no reason to wonder."  
  
He nuzzled his face into her neck. "I don't want to forget this."  
  
She felt something biting at her stomach. She did not want him to forget either. He caressed her cheek.  
  
"Will you remind me to write in my journal to do something nice for you every time I awake?" he asked.  
  
She turned toward him slightly, "It is already there. And you do. Yesterday you found a weed that you gave me. I believe you called it a flower."  
  
"See, I told you I shouldn't be able to grow anything," he chuckled.  
  
"The day before, you insisted on singing to me."  
  
"That must've been what brought on Pon Farr," he grinned, boyishly.  
  
She raised her eyebrow and turned away from him, resting her head on the pillow.  
  
"Margaret Mullen," he said.  
  
She turned toward him. "Who?"  
  
"I'll know how much I care about you when you mention her name."  
  
T'Pol raised an eyebrow and brushed his hair away from his head. "How will you know?"  
  
"I've never told anyone this, but there was a woman I loved very much. I met her when I was training in Starfleet Academy. She was a teacher, or at least she was studying to be one."  
  
"You met her at while at Starfleet? You were very young."  
  
"Yeah, I was 24. I asked her to marry me," he smiled sadly. "But, she said she didn't want to end up a Starfleet widow. She broke up with me that night."  
  
"You sound remorseful."  
  
"It's still somewhat painful. Even almost 20 years later." He paused. "I guess it's more than 20 now."  
  
She drew tiny circles on his forehead as she spoke, "And if I say her name, you will know how much you have come to care for me?"  
  
"Yes, I'll know," he said. "Might save you the trouble of telling me we were lovers." I have a feeling I'll always react as I did this morning. He brushed his lips against the tip of his ear. "Will you promise me something?"  
  
"Yes," she said.  
  
"You'll remind me to fix the air conditioner tomorrow?"  
  
"You have requested that before," she said.  
  
He chuckled, "I guess some things never change."  
  
"Are you fatigued?" she asked.  
  
"I feel in my mind you need me again," said Archer, leaning over her.  
  
* Yes, I was unsure whether you could hear my thoughts.* thought T'Pol  
  
"I can hear them . some of them," he said.  
  
* Can you send something to me?* thought T'Pol.  
  
* Like this? * he thought.  
  
* Yes * she replied.  
  
* How about . I love you. *  
  
She nibbled on his lips. Archer whispered, "Let's watch the sunrise together. Seems like the last thing I'd want to remember, if I could."


End file.
